THE FAMOUS DOOR OCTOBER 7, 2011
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My late mother, bless her, prodded me to write better by withholding her approval, and I’m grateful to her for that in the same way that Philip Roth should be thankful to the Nobel committee. He and his admirers (and I’m one of them) might not have been able to enjoy the considerable pleasures of Roth’s late-career burst of ambition and prolificacy if he had not been fixated on winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. Of course, he deserves the honor, at least as much as recent winners such as Herta Muller and Orham Pamuk—and certainly as much as Bob Dylan, apparently a near-winner in the officially secret competition. (I’ve read only a couple of poems by Tomas Tranströmer, and I did that this morning.)
The contention over Dylan’s qualifications for status as a literary figure is a full fifty years old now and largely a creation of pop journalists having fun in the mud pen of the old high-low debate. Since the early 1960s, when Dylan first emerged as a startlingly creative folk songwriter, he has been called a poet—in large part because the words of his best songs have the overt seriousness and elusiveness we associate with poetry, and also in part because the public image he devised and sustained through innumerable transformations has had as its essence the spirit of a 19th-century romantic, the outlier sensitivity we think of as poetic.
Dylan himself has always resisted the title of poet, because that’s not the kind of thing his kind of poet does. He discussed the subject at some length with his first biographer, Robert Shelton, in interviews that Shelton abridged in his book. In the original transcripts (now accessible to researchers at the Experience Music Project in Seattle), Dylan told Shelton:
That’s such a goddamn big word for someone to call themselves “a poet.” I think a poet is anybody who wouldn’t call himself a poet. To be a poet does not necessarily mean that you have to write words on paper. You know what I mean? One of those truck drivers that walks down the fucking motel thing, he’s a poet. He walks just like a poet. He acts like a poet. He talks like a poet. I mean, what else does a poet have to do?
Dylan has done quite a bit of literary value, while walking and acting and talking like a poet of the truck-driver motel-thing school. He has written “Tomorrow Is a Long Time,” “Visions of Johanna,” “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” “Idiot Wind,” and enough other works of fiery imagination to just about justify his progressive canonization. A Nobel Prize seems almost inevitable, if not obligatory, now. Dylan’s output, in its vastness and breadth, is not consistently brilliant; for every ten songs as good as “Boots of Spanish Leather,” there’s one “Wiggle Wiggle.” Still, his body of work, taken as a whole, is clearly deep and rich enough to meet the elastic standards of the Nobel academy.
The tyranny of all creative competition, particularly that of the highest honors (and there is no higher than the Nobel, short of the sainthood that Dylan probably won’t get), is the secondary effect of transforming those who did not win, suddenly, into losers. Those who are not honorees can seem (or feel) like dishonorees. Roth has surely suffered from this effect in recent years, if only in his own mind. Dylan, as a pop artist taken by way of his nomination into a different (ostensibly higher) realm, is immune to this. His nomination for a Nobel as a songwriter was the equivalent of a win for a writer of poetry or prose, and it has set an important precedent. Of course, Bob Dylan deserves a Nobel, but so did Lorenz Hart and Dorothy Fields and Skip James, all of whom wrote kinds of literature for the singing voice. So, today, do Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Cohen and, in my opinion, Joni Mitchell. Philip Roth shouldn’t feel so bad.
9 comments
This is a manufactured issue if I ever there was such a thing. Yes, Dylan is a great songwriter if by that we mean that many people find his lyrics meaningful. No, he doesn't deserve a Nobel. But then, many Nobel recipients in literature didn't deserve one, neither. I also don't think that Roth deserves it even though he a very good writer. Jorge Luis Borges deserved one but never got it. The Nobel committee in its wisdom has decreed that short story writers are not deserving of that honor. Hence Alice Munroe will likely not get one neither will AB Yehoshua, nor Amos Oz two magnificent Israeli writers. Israelis need not apply for the literary Nobel. It is fitting that this year's winner was a Swede since the prize is a Swedish prize and I am tired of these pretentious judges offering verdicts as if they were universal judges. This year at least they showed how small the Nobel in literature really is.
- arnon
October 7, 2011 at 12:12am
I'm a Dylan fan, but jeez does he does NOT deserve the Nobel Prize for literature. "How many times must the cannonballs fly before they're forever banned." That line and others like it, coupled with Dylan's voice, guitar work and persona did its job creating a mood in people and fostering a certain frame of mind, but great poetry it ain't. Let's ban cannonballs! Let's ban 'em forever!
- AaronW
October 7, 2011 at 3:24am
It's Dylan who claims his songs, the lyrics, have no "message"; he's been saying that from early on in his career. Having heard that many times, it's difficult for me to look at the lyrics in the same way as the words of a great short story (me too with the short stories), every word packed with a "message". I've mentioned this before in a comment, but when Dylan and Joan Baez (and others) performed at the Obama White House, the contrast between the two was stark, Baez without any doubt sending a "message" to the President (with one of her Vietnam War protest songs clearly intended as a message to the President to bring the troops home) and Dylan doing what he does, simply performing his music.
- rayward
October 7, 2011 at 7:58am
Dylan's greatness should be acknowledged. He's a great song writer, to be sure. And his lyrics approach the condition of poetry, are poetry set in music, just like Leonard Cohen's, who in a previous life was an official poet and a fine one. The line between who is and isn't a poet is blurry anyway though I think Dylan was being characteristically mischievous and contrarian in disclaiming poetry's mantle and then expanding on who is and isn't a poet, part of his point being the difference among poet as literal fact, poet as pretentious self description and poet as apt metaphor--"campaign in poetry, govern in prose." Of Hadju's list, and assuming a line between who is and isn't a poet, I'd put Dylan and Joni Mitchell ( and Leonard Cohen) on one side and I'd put of those I know Lorenz Hart, Skip James (a bona fide genius) on the other side, without denigrating the latter two's talent in any way. It simply has to do with the literary quality of their lyrics (and not with the genius of their performance.) I was thinking about this independently of Hadju's piece in relation to Smokey Robinson, whose record Timeless Love I just got and think is estimable. I concluded he's an excellent song writer--even though this record is him covering standards essentially--but not a poet in the sense of a divide between the two. I’m unfamiliar with Dorothy Fields. As for Dylan having a "message," Rayward confuses the issue. Of course his lyrics, being consciously assembled words, build into meaning (sometimes elusive) which is to say, a theme, which organizes their coherence, just like in a great short story, or in a not so great one, or for that matter in any other piece of literature, by its very literary nature. That's one thing. Being overt or didactic is another thing. Dylan's denial of a message isn't to be taken as him saying his lyrics are without meaning. They are to be taken as him saying he's not didactic, a bad quality in a writer, and usually a bad quality in a song writer. I don't know about a Nobel Prize. I don't really care. But this is great, isn't it? Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son ? And where have you been my darling young one ? I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son ? And what did you see, my darling young one ? I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin' I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin' I saw a white ladder all covered with water I saw ten thousand takers whose tongues were all broken I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son ? And what did you hear, my darling young one ? I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin' I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin' I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin' I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin' Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. Oh, who did you meet my blue-eyed son ? Who did you meet, my darling young one ? I met a young child beside a dead pony I met a white man who walked a black dog I met a young woman whose body was burning I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow I met one man who was wounded in love I met another man who was wounded and hatred And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son ? And what'll you do now my darling young one ? I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin' I'll walk to the deepths of the deepest black forest Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison Where the executioner's face is always well hidden Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten Where black is the color, where none is the number And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin' But I'll know my songs well before I start singin' And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
- basman
October 7, 2011 at 9:58am
Great use of parataxis!
- ironyroad
October 7, 2011 at 10:51am
...parataxis.. I see not a cab anywhere in these lines, let alone two of them.
- basman
October 7, 2011 at 11:55am
basman, who knew? Well done. My comment was in the context of a Nobel and Dylan's own statements. In those early years when he broke from the folk music form (electric guitar!) and was heavily criticised for it (by the folkies), I suppose he had no alternative but to disclaim a "message". But those are great lyrics whether they are poetry or deserve a Nobel. A little off topic, but Jobs' obituary in the NYT mentioned he dated Joan Baez. From Dylan to Jobs, that's an interesting progression. Who wrote Three Marlenas?
- rayward
October 7, 2011 at 4:33pm
What can't be found on the internet? ...One, two, three Marlenas, there among us" Wallace Stevens wrote, "I was of three minds like a tree in which there are three blackbirds." Stevens' words are consistent with the idea in Three Marlenas ["Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" see the note for After the Blackbird Sings]. When asked about Three Marlenas, Jakob said that it reflects how he feels a lot of the time, like "three different people facing the day." In Three Marlenas, the speaker searches for what s/he wants and is hopeful that, "there's...someone we can trust...among us." The speaker hopes that one of the selves has got it right. The key, of course, is to search through the multiple voices to find "what s/he wants" and to follow the voice that is most trustworthy; the one most true to one's self. Simply put, when you are self-reflective and think about different options and their consequences, you will have "different minds" or "multiple selves." This notion of multiple selves has been a topic discussed by philosophers, poets, sociologists, psychologists, linguists, artists, & great thinkers for centuries. Linguist George Lakoff provides a language for talking about multiple selves. He writes that each person has a "self" and "subject." The "subject" includes "the center of consciousness, will, and judgment;" the "self" is "the rest of the person," including beliefs, plans, passions, memories, one's past, etc. Since we all have a subject and a self, it's easy to see how "multiple selves" emerge when we think about what we're doing and what we want (that is, when we reflect about our lives). For example, if I want to work with my boyfriend--who makes his living selling cars--I may think that would be a good life [subject]. But my beliefs/plans may be to live my life free from commitments [self]. In this case, my subject and self are at odds, and I (or Marlena) will feel conflicted as I sort through and search for who I really am [subject] and what I really want [self]. Plato wrote, "The unexamined life is not worth living." His statement reflects the principle that we must examine, reflect, and understand our behaviors, their consequences, and our role in society. We should question basic truths and assumptions so that we make informed decisions and to ensure that we are being true to self. The idea of having "different selves" is apparent in a number of Jakob's songs. Here is just a sampling: Sugarfoot: "I know you ain't my enemy, the only one's inside of me." One Headlight, "I sit alone and I feel just like somebody else, I ain't changed but I know I ain't the same." Sleepwalker, "The sleepwalker in me and God only know that I've tried." Although there are a number of ways to approach a discussion of "multiple selves," a rich tradition is found in the work of R.D. Laing, who wrote The Divided Self. Briefly, Laing argues that we have various ways of experiencing & viewing something; and one may not be sure "how to feel" about it. The uncertainty may create some discomfort but it also is necessary in order to understand that the different views may expose a "multiplicity of selves" and that we should recognize that "there is no one way" to view an experience. Embracing the multiplicity and being willing to live with the contradictions and discomfort provides a way for our "authentic self" to emerge. Embracing multiple selves may be uncomfortable for others, but it is necessary to examining, reflecting, sorting through. Jakob Dylan's lyrics reflect the complexities involved with sorting through being of "two [or three] minds" and also the importance of being willing to do so...
- basman
October 7, 2011 at 7:49pm
The Nobel Committee has made some interesting selections for their Literary Winners over the years. Sir Winston Churchill and the Earl Bertrand Russell are two of the Head Scratchers that I see. They have typicaly selected writers with single issues, or significant pieces. The NObels shine the lights on these writers and their issues. But the Nobels also polish thier trophies with these selections. Hemmingway and Hesse, Borodsky and Morrison, Bellows and Stienbeck, all of these writers increased the stature of the Nobel Commitee as much as they were lifted. There is an opening for Bob Dylan here. First you have to regonize the medium that Dylan selected, Folk Music & Rock & Roll. In 1961 when Dylan was a yound man these formats were not capable of bring ideas into the mainstream. These were entertainers, not writers or philosophers. Certainly Dylan has elevated this area into a legitimate form that is now recognized and reported on seriously. Second is the fact that the Nobel Commitee enjoys bringing wirters to a broader audience. Here again the srgument could be made for Dylan. While most people have heard of Bob Dylan, most people have not stopped to listen to Dylan. He has never had a Number #1 hit in America. Like A Rolling Stone (LARS to the faithful) peaked at # 2, and his greatest songs never even charted for him, like All Allong the WatchTower, Desolation Row or Masters of War. Let alone his later work. A retrospective of this work by a larger audience would be the kind of discussion the Nobels would enjoy. lastly, I think that Dylan's Work does have some significance on the Modern condition. He really was out in front of a lot of issues. Against the rise of the militarism that gripped the early sixties and on the right side of the Civil Rights movement, Dylan made significant arguments for change where it was needed. Dylan is about 70 now, and he only has a few more good years. I think within 3-5 years there will be a Nobel in his future.
- CRS9TNR
October 7, 2011 at 10:18pm